


The Witch of the Woods

by lilium_elendir



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: 32!Ignis, 33!Gladio, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, But still taking place in the world of Eos, Domestic Fluff, Familiars, Fluff, Librarian!Gladio, M/M, Slice of Life, Witch AU, Witch!Ignis, Witchnis, magical au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-06-13 17:31:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15369684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilium_elendir/pseuds/lilium_elendir
Summary: When Kellebram Haven's local witch dies, the Oracle sends a new one to take her place. Gladio, a retired soldier turned librarian, finds himself falling quickly for the new witch, Ignis. Follow their story as love blooms between them through a series of vignettes over time.





	1. Kellebram Haven

The sleepy little village of Kellebram Haven was nestled amongst the trees of Malmalam Thicket, a dense forest in the foothills at the base of the Rock of Ravatogh. Gladiolus had first moved to the village five years ago when the Lucian armed forces had been dissolved once Lucis’ havens had been secured. All the citizens of Eos now lived under the Dominion of the Oracle and the protection of her witches, who maintained the havens.

 

It was a peaceful life Gladio enjoyed, a stark contrast to his days of fighting daemon hordes as the last of the Crystal’s magic faded from Eos. With the network of havens safely under the care of the Oracle, he had retired to Kellebram. He’d chosen it for the location. It was away from the larger havens that were close to the abandoned cities of Insomnia and Lestallum. Away from the memories of darker times.

 

Here, in Kellebram, Gladio was able to move on and live life for himself and indulge in his passions. Not only was Kellebram remote in its location, but it was deep in the woods, set in the natural beauty of Lucis. A branch of the Maidenwater ran along one side of the rock shelf of the haven itself, a ridge down the other. The village spilled around it, cobbled streets with iron street lamps powered by the magical energy of the haven. Weathered stone shops and houses lined the streets, but everywhere nature encroached.

 

Malmashrooms grew in abundance under the dark canopy of the dense woods. Trees stood tall and mighty between the buildings, mandrake flowers grew in patches, and garlic sprouted everywhere, the pungent scent drifting by frequently on the wind. It was here in nature’s bounty that Gladio felt the most at home since leaving Insomnia behind. He’d contemplated pitching a tent to live in, but that would have made his other passion difficult to manage.

 

Books. Gladio had loved reading since a young age. Adventure, history, mystery, horror, romance; he read it all. His thirst for a good book was nearly insatiable. He’d spent the first few years amassing a collection large enough to open a library. His old comrades would laugh and shake their heads if they could see him now. He always hoped one of them would come through his library’s doors one day.

 

The library had garnered quite the reputation, and people would come from afar to borrow books, often bringing some to add to his collection. The large paned windows in the front let in a modest amount of sunlight, whatever managed to filter down through the trees. Above the door hung a wooden sign, a shield was carved into it, the image of an open book in its center, and surrounding it were the words ‘The Shield’s Tome’.

 

Gladio had always had bad allergies, but between the dusty pages of his books and the variety of flora in the Thicket, they flared like he’d never experienced before. Luckily the local witch brewed him a concoction to drink every day, and it kept the worst of it at bay. He would visit her once a month and trade various herbs he’d foraged for a new bottle.

 

Sadly, Kimya had recently passed away to the great beyond. The Oracle had sent one of her messengers to assure the village that a new witch would arrive soon to take Kimya’s place. Rumor had it that the replacement was going to be Kimya’s sister Ezma’s apprentice. The sisters had a history of being at odds, so most of the people Gladio talked to about it were nervous. Everyone had thought highly of Kimya, even if she was eccentric.

 

Then one day a plume of smoke was spotted rising above the tree line from the direction of the witch’s cottage. It seemed that the village’s new witch had arrived. Gladio gave it a few days before gathering up an offering to trade and heading out beyond the safety of the haven. For reasons unknown to the greater population, a witch always lived outside the protective circle of the haven they watched over.

 

Gladio didn’t worry too much about the daemons that roamed freely during the day, the strong ones only came out at night. The dirt path to the witch’s cottage also seemed to fall under the witch’s protection, but it had been some time between Kimya's passing and the new witch’s arrival.

 

Despite the packed dirt of the well-worn path, Gladio’s boots kicked up enough dust to cause a sneezing fit. The dust motes shimmered in the sunlight that shone through the mighty trees of the thicket. Gladio moaned miserably as he walked, his nasal passages on fire, the back of his throat sore. His amber eyes were red-rimmed and watery, and scrubbing them with the back of his hand only seemed to make things worse.

 

The journey was largely uneventful, not that it was far. Gladio noticed a new signpost hammered down into the side of the road. ‘No hunters allowed.’ Huh, weird, he thought. Another sneezing fit took hold of him as he rounded a corner, the witch’s cottage coming into view. Or it would have had it not been for the sleeping coeurl blocking the path.

 

The sneeze had the creature lifting its large head from its paws to look Gladio over. “Shit,” he whispered, wiping at his nose with a rag from his pocket. The coeurl was white with the typical spotted pattern. An elder coeurl by Gladio’s estimation. Old, and powerful. The air sizzled with a sudden surge of electric energy as the creature stood, lowering its head. A warning growl echoed through the space between man and creature, the coeurl’s whisker appendages flicking up and down in agitation.

 

Gladio slowly reached behind his shoulder for the long thin blade that was strapped to his back, but froze when a firm, accented voice cut through the air as surely as his blade would have. A man’s voice.

 

“Grimalkin, sit.”

 

The coeurl sat on its haunches and then lied down in the middle of the path, looking for all like a giant, obedient house cat. As the creature laid down, the owner of the voice came into view. First the sharp point of a black hat, followed by a wide brim that hid the man’s upper face from view. He came to stand beside the coeurl, a gloved hand petting over the creature’s head.

 

“It seems that our first customer has come calling, Grim, though the shop isn’t ready for business just yet.”

 

The man kept his head bent, his face hidden except for the slight curl of plush lips. He sounded amused, but Gladio felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment.

 

“I guess you’re Kellebram’s new witch?” Gladio asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the witch’s face.

 

“Well, I’m certainly not dressed like this for a ball.” The man retorted, that secretive little smile still on his lips as he gestured down his long frame.

 

Warm amber eyes followed the gloved hand, black leather over long, slim digits. The witch was dressed in a long black jacket that came down past his knees. There were leather panels down the edges of the zipper, two other panels down his flanks. They started at the tops of his ribs and went straight down to the bottom. The panels were laced together, but only along the length of his ribcage, cinching the jacket close to his slim body. It was zipped up the middle, but the zipper only ran from mid-sternum to what Gladio imagined was the witch’s belt line. The design left the column of the witch’s neck exposed, including the center of his chest. Pale skin came to a point over his heart where the zipper started.

 

Gladio took a few steps forward without realizing. It allowed him to see that the shoulders of the jacket were also made of leather and flared out slightly over his upper arms. There were pointed studs along the neckline. He wore a small necklace with a skull charm nestled in the hollow of his throat, the ends of his collarbones jutting out from beneath the leather. Gladio was mesmerized. The witch was beautiful.

 

One last look revealed black knee-high boots, visible because the zipper was short and left the lower half of the jacket parted. The boots seemed strange to Gladio. Leather shoes with a short heel, but with laced up fabric covering his calves. Beneath that were dark grey tights that completed the witch’s ensemble.

 

“If you’re quite done, I’d advise you to return tomorrow. I shall have a remedy prepared for you at that time.”

 

The witch’s voice startled Gladio from his thoughts, and he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

 

“I’m sorry, I was just… wait, how did you know I was here for a remedy?” The witch chuckled, his chin still ducked down, keeping his face hidden.

 

“I gazed into my crystal ball and saw your arrival.”

 

“Really?!” The pitch of Gladio’s voice raised in awe, and then the witch truly did laugh aloud.

 

“My apologies, I was only teasing. You’ve been sneezing loud enough to rattle my windows. Given the area we reside in I thought it a safe assumption that you have significant allergies.”

 

The witch finally tilted his head up. If Gladio thought he was beautiful before, he had no words to describe the man before him now. Soft, tawny hair feathered out from under the hat. High cheekbones and a sharp nose balanced his face, along with a dusting of beauty marks. Gladio’s gaze settled on the witch’s eyes, and his chest tightened unexpectedly.

 

What were once probably bright green, the witch’s eyes were clouded over and milky. A large starburst scar surrounded his left eye, with additional scars over his right eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, and his lower lip. The scars did nothing to mar his beauty, if anything they added to it. Gladio had a million questions he wanted to ask but settled on introductions instead.

 

“I’m Gladio, by the way.”

 

“You may call me Ignis, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. If you’ll excuse me, there is still much I must do to prepare to open the shop. We’ll discuss payment tomorrow.”

 

“Thanks, Ignis.” Gladio smiled and went to turn away, but a gentle touch on his wrist stopped him in his tracks.

 

“Gladio? A moment.” Ignis stepped back and brought his hands together. He swirled them around mid-air, and purple fire sprang to life between his palms as the witch conjured an item to show Gladio. It was a small paper envelope.

 

“Here, take this and add it to a warm beverage. It should provide you some relief until the morrow.”

 

Gladio accepted the small packet, murmuring another thanks. Ignis’ face was obscured by his hat again, only the small smile on his lips visible.

 

“My pleasure.”

 

With that the witch turned towards the coeurl, reached out to grab a handful of fur at the nape of its neck, and mounted it as though it were a chocobo. The coeurl stood, Ignis high up on its back, and trotted off into the woods. Gladio watched until they were swallowed up by the trees. With a shake of his head he turned around and followed the path back towards Kellebram Haven.


	2. The Witch's Cottage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, but I hope you find it was worth it! :)

The evening Gladio met Ignis found him sitting in his kitchen in his favorite sweats and a soft cotton shirt. His home was small, an apartment above the library, accessed by a staircase in the back. He’d boiled a kettle of water on the stove-top and set a cup of tea to steep. He opened the small envelope Ignis had given him earlier. Ignis, Kellebram’s new witch. Like many times since he had met the man this morning, Gladio’s thoughts turned to their encounter. He had so many questions, none of which he had the answer to.

 

A small sigh escaped him as he brought the small packet to his nose, smelling the contents before pouring them into his cup. The scent of citrus, cinnamon, and spice permeated his nose, and he had to turn away quickly, sneezing into the crook of his arm. He groaned in the quiet of his apartment, but was pleased to find his sense of smell still functioned.

 

There were slices of dried lemon and Duscaen oranges floating in his tea cup, as well as flecks of cinnamon and powdered Leiden peppers. He stirred the contents and watched as they swirled around in the hot water, the aroma drifting up from his cup soothed his nostrils. Gladio carried the tea over to his reading nook; a large bay window that faced towards the center of town, the sill of it piled high with pillows and a blanket.

 

He set his cup down beside the book he was reading and rooted around in the pillows until he found a comfortable spot. Gladio could see the soft blue glow of the haven’s runes from the window, through the gaps between the buildings and trees.

 

First, Gladio reached for a hair elastic on the table. He stuck it in his mouth to free up his hands as he pulled his long, dark, thick hair into a ponytail. Once his hair was up, he settled his large hardcover book on his drawn-up knees. Lastly, he reached for his glasses. It had been with great reluctance that he’d given in to age-related eyesight issues. He could see fine at a distance, but the eyestrain from trying to read unaided quickly gave him a headache.

 

His sister had teased him endlessly over his choice of glasses. Large, black, thick frames that looked nothing like reading glasses, but he had insisted upon them nonetheless. Gladio wanted to be able to see the entire page in one go, and not have to look down his nose. He did too much reading for that. The glasses partially obscured his thick eyebrows and accentuated the scars on his face.

 

Hair up, glasses on, and his book on his knees, Gladio lifted the cup of tea into his hands. Inhaling the aroma, he took his first sip.

 

~*~

 

Much like Gladio had approached the witch’s cottage the day before, his path was blocked by a sleeping coeurl. This time, however, he didn’t wake the large beast with a sneeze, thanks to the allergy relief Ignis had provided to him. He’d gotten his best night of sleep in a month. A lack of sneezing didn’t keep the creature sleeping though, and Grim lifted his large head from his paws to look Gladio over.

 

He’d dressed in his old military fatigues; loose leather pants, a tank, and a short-sleeved leather jacket. Gladio had strapped his katana to his back, just in case a lesser daemon was prowling about, but the journey was again quiet. He had a leather knapsack slung over his shoulder, filled with goods to trade for whatever the witch had concocted to keep his allergies at bay. “Good boy,” Gladio said quietly, holding out a placating hand to the creature in the road as he skirted around him. Grim snorted out a huff and nosed Gladio’s palm, but made no aggressive move towards him. The coeurl finally laid its head back down on its paws once Gladio was around him, his whisker appendages twitching with stored electricity.

 

The witch’s cottage appeared no different than when it had been occupied by Kimya. The same worn stone and peeling wood slat exterior. The same peaked, red-tiled roof with smoke curling from the chimney. But there was something different in the air. Something that had nothing to do with the electricity sizzling from the new witch’s pet coeurl. Something magic. Something distinctly _Ignis_. Or maybe it was just the inexplicable butterflies in his stomach.

 

There was a sign in the window that said ‘open’, but despite the hard rap of Gladio’s knuckles on the wood, there was no answer. He shielded his eyes with his hands and squinted through the pane of glass to see if he could catch sight of the witch inside.

 

“Looking for someone?” Ignis’ voice cut through the air, startling Gladio upright. He turned to see the witch approaching from around the side of the house and ducked his head sheepishly.

 

“You,” Gladio said simply, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He peeked up from under the hood of his thick eyebrows, and flashed Ignis a smile. The witch was dusting dirt from his knees and hands, both covered in leather.

 

Gladio took a moment to take in the witch’s appearance, so different from yesterday. He had on grey trousers, and brown leather boots that came up above his knee, the tops turned down to form a cuff. Matching brown leather gloves covered his hands, the rolled-up sleeves led to a lavender button-down shirt above them. Ignis’ front was covered by a short apron with a flower print, and on his head sat not his witch’s hat, but a floppy straw hat with a band of fabric around it that matched his apron.

 

“Been gardening?” Gladio asked when Ignis didn’t speak.

 

 “Indeed.” The witch shifted a basket hanging from one arm to the other. His gaze seemed to settle over Gladio’s shoulder rather than on the man himself, and his face was pinched in irritation. Gladio wasn’t sure if it was because Ignis seemed to be blind, or… his thoughts were interrupted when the witch spoke again.

 

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Ignis offered in explanation, doing nothing to ease the sudden tension in the air.

 

“I… sorry, I thought you wanted me to stop by today for my allergy meds.. er, remedy, or whatever. I can come back some other time, I didn’t mean to disturb—"

 

A snort of hot breath on the back of his neck stopped Gladio in mid-sentence. He’d been so intent on Ignis that he hadn’t heard the coeurl come up behind him. Grim bumped Gladio’s shoulder with his head as he passed by to sit on his haunches beside Ignis.

 

“You and I will speak about this _later_.” Ignis chastised his familiar without looking at the creature and lifted a long slim finger to point back to the entrance of the grove. Gladio noticed the iron-tipped claws of Ignis’ gloves for the first time, clods of dirt lodged beneath them. Grim skulked away with another huff, whisker appendages twitching. Ignis quickly turned his attention back to Gladio, smiling for the first time since Gladio arrived.

 

“My apologies, Gladio. You see, part of Grimalkin’s duties are to alert me when we have a visitor. For some reason he let you slip by unannounced, and thus your presence was unexpected--” Ignis paused slightly to flash Gladio another smile “--but certainly not unwelcome.”

 

Heat crept up Gladio’s neck. Was Ignis flirting with him? He rubbed the back of his neck again, as though he could dispel the redness.

 

“S’okay. Thanks, by the way, for the tea you gave me. It really did the trick.” He unshouldered his leather knapsack to show it to the witch. “I brought some ingredients that I would have traded with Kimya for, but…“ he gestured at the basket hanging from Ignis’ arm, filled with herbs and root vegetables, “I’m not sure they’re the sorts of things you’ll be looking for.”

 

The basket settled safely in the crook of his arm, Ignis removed his gardening gloves one at a time and tucked them into a pocket of his apron. The sight made Gladio swallow hard. It was his first time seeing the witch’s hands. His fingers were long and thin, his nails well-manicured. Gladio had to stop himself from reaching out to see if Ignis’ skin was as soft as it looked.

 

“Let’s discuss payment inside, shall we?” Ignis gestured towards the front door, which was blocked by the bulk of Gladio’s body.

Gladio stepped back with a sheepish smile and Ignis moved to the door. He made a quick gesture over the knob with his hand, and the door swung inwards under its own power.

“Cool trick,” Gladio said as he followed Ignis inside. He turned back to close the door, but it swung shut as soon as they cleared the entrance.

 

“Not a trick, Gladio. Magic.” Ignis replied with a small smile as he set his basket down on a nearby table. There was the light of amusement in the witch’s milky green eyes and Gladio blushed again. Ignis removed his gardening hat and apron, and hung them on some pegs near the door. “Come,” he said quietly, beckoning Gladio forward with a curl of his long fingers.

 

Gladio’s lips parted, awed as he looked around the shop as though it were his first time stepping foot inside the stone structure. Where Kimya’s décor had been dark and cluttered, Ignis’ was bright and meticulously organized. The windows were covered with light green sheers, pulled aside to let in an abundance of natural light. Rows of shelves lined the walls, each filled with neatly lined bottles and jars, books, and scrolls. There were cubbies with ingredients, planters filled with herbs and exotic greenery, and meticulously placed objects of interest. Everything was carefully labeled, and everything had its place. Gladio was stunned, the difference in the cottage was nothing short of extraordinary, and he was amazed at the changes Ignis had made in such a short time.

 

Picking his basket back up, Ignis led Gladio to a well-worn table. He set the basket down and turned to a pedestal with a black leather-bound book upon it. Beside it was an ink pot and quill. The quill was unlike anything Gladio had ever seen before. Bright hues of red, orange, and yellow, the feather was wide at the top before it thinned in the middle into an intricate filament. Beyond, it tapered back into the expected shape of a feather where it was wedged into the writing nib. It tickled the back of Gladio’s mind, and he let out a sudden gasp.

 

“Is that a…?” His voice trailed off as he looked up at Ignis in astonishment. Ignis only smiled in that way that Gladio was quickly learning sped up his heart.

 

“Indeed.” Ignis lifted the quill and jotted down a note in the book with a few precise strokes. He set the quill back in the ink pot and tapped a slender finger against perfectly bowed lips in thought. “This way.” Ignis gestured for Gladio to follow him once more.

 

They passed a fireplace on their way to a door at the back of the shop. There was a cauldron bubbling over the fire, a delicious scent permeating the air around it. On the hearth lay a beautiful white dog, its head on its paws. The dog opened its eyes long enough to look at Ignis and Gladio as they walked by. Light blue and surrounded by lines of dark grey, Gladio wanted to stop and pet it, but the dog closed its eyes again and Ignis kept walking, so he followed.

 

Ignis opened the door the old-fashioned way, turning the knob and revealing the room beyond. Gladio followed him in, eyes flitting around the dimly lit interior. The windows were covered by heavy drapes, but the room was bathed in soft orange light that revealed multiple work stations with glassware and other implements of creation. Looking for the source of light, Gladio’s mouth gaped open as he stepped inside, and around Ignis.

 

In the back corner was an ornate metal stand and perched atop it was a magnificent bird. About three feet tall, the bird was covered in red and orange feathers, a heatless flame licked along its plumes. Its beak curved down into a wickedly sharp point, which parted as it raised its head to squawk at their arrival, its head turning to fix its pupil on Ignis. Its eyes were red and swirled with an inner flame. The creature spread its wings, flapping in place, and Gladio could see feathers that resembled Ignis’ quill on the underside.

 

“It’s a phoenix, isn’t it?” Gladio stuttered out, rooted in place as he continued to gawk at the bird of legend.

 

Ignis chuckled and approached the creature, scratching into its neck feathers. “Gladio, this is Fawkes. In addition to all the wondrous things you’ve heard about phoenixes, he assists me in invoking Ifrit.”

 

“That sounds… intense,” Gladio replied, sounding curious.

 

“It can be.” Deadly serious, Ignis’ tone of voice was enough to pull Gladio’s attention away from the glorious phoenix. Without the brim of his witch’s hat to hide under, Gladio could see the dark look that passed over Ignis’ face. Nor had he failed to notice the way Ignis’ slim fingers touched the scar around his eye.

 

Mouth open, about to inquire further, Gladio remembered his manners and snapped his mouth shut instead. He watched as Ignis walked to a table that held a marble mortar and pestle. Every move the man made was the definition of grace. The shirt and trousers Ignis wore today hugged his long legs and accentuated his hips. Each step and swing of his arms was effortless and precise. As curious as he was about all the items in the witch’s workshop, his amber eyes were ever drawn back to the witch himself.

 

“Tell me, Gladio, what did the previous witch concoct for you?” Ignis asked, turning his clouded gaze to the place where Gladio was admiring a studded cross nestled amongst other trinkets, in between sneaking glances at the witch.

 

Gladio couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose as he thought of the foul drink Kimya brewed for him once a month. “She made a potion for me to drink. It was awful, but it worked.”

 

Ignis stifled a giggle behind his thin fingers before beckoning Gladio over. “Let us see if we can’t come up with a… _tastier_ , but equally effective alternative.” Gladio’s heart skipped again as he came to stand by Ignis. He couldn’t help but feel that the witch was flirting with him again. The way he’d paused slightly. The way his accented voice had licked over the word. A thrill traveled down his spine just thinking about it and all he could manage was a grunt in response.

 

“What flavors are to your liking?” Ignis inquired as he started to add some ingredients Gladio didn’t recognize to the mortar.

 

“I’m not that picky.” It was true, Gladio liked just about everything. “Honestly, I really enjoyed the packet of tea you gave me yesterday.”

 

One of those secretive smiles quirked up the corners of Ignis’ lips. “Ah, a man of refined tastes, then.” Gladio could feel heat rise in his cheeks and a nervous chuckle rumbled up from his chest.

 

“If you say so.” He looked away as Ignis glanced over to him, the heat spreading down his neck. Ignis didn’t say anything else as he ground the contents of the bowl into powder. He started adding things Gladio was familiar with; dried lemon and orange slices, grated cinnamon, cloves. Gladio found himself leaning closer, enticed by the scent.

 

“You approve then?” He was startled by the sudden sound of Ignis’ voice, so close that he felt the warmth of it on his ear. Only then did he realize he was hovering just over Ignis’ shoulder, almost touching him. He looked down into Ignis’ milky eyes, which were intently regarding his own. In that moment, Gladio knew Ignis could see him, regardless of the appearance of his eyes.

 

Gladio looked away first. “Perfect,” he murmured, stepping back and to the side as he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Ignis started pouring the contents of the mortar into individual packets; by the end there were seven. He placed them in a small cloth pouch but didn’t relinquish it.

 

“A week’s worth to start.” Ignis informed Gladio, the pouch light in his hand.

 

“How do I pay you?” Gladio’s question was met with a smirk and the arch of a manicured eyebrow.

 

“Let me see what you’ve brought.” Ignis gestured to the bag hanging from Gladio’s shoulder.

 

Gladio moved close again, even though Ignis didn’t surrender any additional space. He sat the soft leather knapsack on the table and loosened the draw string. He upended it, dumping root vegetables and other foraged items onto the wooden surface.

 

“This is sufficient,” Ignis advised, grazing the items with his fingertips, “this time. As you’ve noticed, I’m growing many of these items myself. Next week I shall require something more _exotic_.”

 

Gladio gulped. Ignis flirted with the grace of an assassin, pinning him to the wall with imagined daggers, barely missing all his vital points, and yet the way he said ‘exotic’ sliced him to ribbons nonetheless. He swallowed his composure back into place before speaking. “Like what?”

 

“Surprise me.” Ignis smirked and Gladio knew there was going to be little hope for him. He’d only met Ignis yesterday and already he was crushing on the man. Hard. Even harder when he felt Ignis’ fingers slip around his wrist, turning his palm up and placing the pouch in it.

 

The witch’s touch seared his skin as though branded by Ifrit himself. Gladio felt faint, swaying where he stood. Ignis’ eyebrows lifted, an amused smile on his lips. “Until next week then?”

 

“Of course,” was all Gladio could manage, turning towards the door. Ignis led the way out. Gladio’s mind was reeling too much to notice anymore of the intricacies of the witch’s cottage, barely remembering his satchel and to thank Ignis before departing.

 

When the door clicked shut, Ignis sagged against it. All of his carefully crafted poise wilted from the strain of being so close to this new man that had fallen in to his life. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Perhaps it was the easy way the man smiled, or the warmth in his amber eyes. His tanned skin and thick arms certainly didn’t hurt. Neither did the way his familiars seemed to take to the man.

 

Quiet chittering suddenly filled the air and Ignis smiled.

 

“Yes, I realize I could have supplied him with more, but then he wouldn’t have reason to return for a month.”

 

A small salamander crawled up Ignis’ lean frame to perch on his shoulder, chittering again. Ignis sighed, a wistful smile on his face. He ran a fingertip over dark blue and silver of the creature’s back.

 

“It would seem you’re all conspiring against me,” Ignis tutted at the small amphibian. First Grimalkin, and now Dagon. Dag chittered again, and the sound of claws clicking along the wooden floor joined the hushed sounds of the cottage. The dog from the hearth joined them and woofed softly at Ignis, her tail swishing.

 

“Don’t you dare tell her yet, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Ignis admonished the white dog, wagging his finger for emphasis, though the chastising didn’t reach his voice.

 

Pryna woofed again, her tongue lolling out as she panted, happiness clear in her fluffy face. She lifted her paw to Ignis and in the space of a breath she was simply gone.

 

“Bloody Astrals.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos, yelling at me on Twitter @LiliumElendir are all fuel for my soul. Thanks for reading! This story is becoming much larger and more self-indulgent than originally anticipated, and I'm excited to share the rest of it with all of you! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated! Please come yell at me on Twitter and Tumblr, @LiliumElendir!


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